


The Art of Wooing your Boyfriend

by Stellacarlberg



Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, Fluff, I had no choice, IT'S TIME TO GET ROMANTIC Y'ALL, It's Valentine's Day, M/M, Modern Era, Romantic Comedy, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-28 03:18:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17779580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stellacarlberg/pseuds/Stellacarlberg
Summary: “What’s wrong?” Katherine asks and lowers her computer screen slightly, eying Davey across the round table.“It is a week until the fourteenth,” Davey says, letting his head hit the table in frustration. “And I have no idea of what to give Jack.”*Valentine's day is coming up, and Davey is freaking out slightly.





	The Art of Wooing your Boyfriend

**Author's Note:**

> HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY  
> I HAD TO WRITE SOME FLUFF

Davey is not a romantic person, per say. 

He doesn’t mind romance. Not that much, anyway. It is often very nice to be taken care of and showered in affection. It is a sort of ego-boost, as well. And getting free chocolate is never a bad thing. So, no, he doesn’t mind romance. 

He just isn’t good at it himself. 

Every time he tries to do a nice, romantic gesture, he chokes. He can’t think of anything, he overthinks it, and it all ends really badly. 

This turns into a pretty big problem, when he realizes that he has started dating the biggest romantic nerd he has ever met. 

“I’m not that romantic,” Jack had said, shortly after they started dating. “I’m pretty low-key, actually.”

That, Davey had soon found out, had been a big fat lie. 

It had been clear the first time Jack had showed up at Davey’s door with a rose in his hand. “For you,” he had said and given it to a very surprised Davey along with a swift kiss on the cheek. “You ready to go?” Davey had only nodded numbly and muttered something about getting some water for the flower. Not two weeks later, Jack had surprised Davey outside his lecture hall with a picnic basket. They had spent a very nice afternoon eating sandwiches in a nearby park, enjoying the warm weather and each others company. 

Things like that kept on happening.

Every now and then, he would get surprised by chocolate, flowers, or small gifts that “Made me think of you, it’s no big deal, Davey.” 

Now they were nearing six months, which was amazing in itself. Davey was extremely happy. He still got butterflies everytime they kissed - which was quite often. He had started spending the night at Jack’s more often than not, and he didn’t even bother packing a bag any longer. He knew he had enough clothes at Jack to last him almost a week, at this point. 

The only problem is that Davey, however much he loved getting wooed, has no idea how to return the romantic gestures Jack has taken a liking to. 

So, yes. Davey is extremely happy. He has probably never been happier with anyone but Jack. Everything in life is going great. 

“Everything in life sucks,” he says. 

His friends look up at this unusual display of dramatic flair, usually reserved for Race or Romeo. They then glance at each other, speaking in silent glances. 

“What’s wrong?” Katherine asks and lowers her computer screen slightly, eying Davey across the round table. 

They are at one of their favorite coffee shops, studying and just hanging out. It’s a beautiful day outside, cold but with a clear blue sky. Inside the café, it is less blue and more pink. Hearts decorate every surface on the whole premises. Someone has written on the big black board over the baristas’ heads: “Happy Valentine’s, celebrate with us!” A selection of love songs play on a loop from the overhead speakers. 

“It is a week until the fourteenth,” Davey says, letting his head hit the table in frustration. “And I have no idea of what to give Jack.”

Spot shrugs and turns his gaze back towards his book. Davey’s small meltdown is obviously not fascinating enough to capture his interest. “Buy him dinner. He likes food.”

“He does,” Race confirms, looking down at his phone again. “And candy.”

Davey shakes his head. “No, it’s not good enough.” He sighs. “Jack is such a hopeless romantic, he will probably get me something incredibly sweet and I. Don’t. Know. What. To. Do.” He punctuates the last words by hitting his head lightly on the table in frustration. Katherine pulls him up at the back of his shirt. 

“Calm down,” she says and frowns at him. 

Davey makes a face. “What, are you gonna give Sarah anything?”

Katherine turns bright red. “I…” she avoids his gaze. “I might need to ask her out, first.”

Davey claps her lightly on the shoulder, and she quickly changes the topic back. “Why don’t you just… I don’t know, make him a card?”

Davey gives her a look. “A card?”

Race’s eyes widen slightly, and he slaps the table. “Yes! A card, and, and…” He freezes for half a second, thinking hard. “Oh, you can write a poem!”

Davey turns on him. “A poem?” His voice drips of scepticism. Race shrugs, his excited look turning a little bit offended.

“Yeah, why not? You’ll breeze through it, you know how to write. And it’s not like you’ve got a better idea.”

Well, Davey thinks, that’s true. Race might have a point, actually. 

This is why he, the next day, slows down when he passes an office depot on his way home from class. He looks through the window and spots a stand with pink and red cards next to the cash register. He sighs. 

“I must be losing my mind,” he mutters before hoisting his bag up slightly and going in. 

Later that night, he tries to come up with a poem. 

It turns out that Race had been wrong on one thing. Davey may be majoring in the english language, and he may hope to one day be a writer of some kind. But that apparently does not automatically make him a good poet. 

_Dear Jack_  
Your eyes are dark  
Just like a lark  
You paint really well  
I think you are 

Davey stops, his hand hovering slightly over the paper. No, he can’t tell his boyfriend of almost six months that he thinks he’s _swell_. He can do better than that. 

The card goes in the trash, along with all his hopes and dreams. 

Mush and Blink are next to try to help him. 

“You need to show him you care,” Mush says, and hands Davey a mug of green tea before sitting down at the kitchen table. He is wearing sweats and a sweater that Davey recognizes as Blink’s. Blink himself comes into the kitchen, carrying their white, fluffy cat. He, too, sits down at the table and pets her fur absentmindedly. His and Mush’s apartment is small, but incredibly cozy, with more throw pillows and blankets than a lodging house with three dozen eighty-year olds. 

“What do you mean?” Davey asks. “Of course I care, he knows that.”

“Well, of course,” Mush agrees, nodding quickly. “But it’s always nice getting reminded of it once in a while, right?” Blink nods along. “It’s not the thing itself, it’s the thought behind it.”

That might make some kind of sense, Davey thinks. And he kinda likes the idea of being recognized for having a good idea, no matter how badly it turns out.

“What are you two doing for valentines?” he asks and takes a sip of the tea. It’s too hot, and he scolds his tongue. 

Blink and Mush give each other sappy looks. They are about one second away from actually melting into a puddle of goo, that’s how cheesy they’re being. “We are making each other gifts from scratch!” Blink says with a big smile. “It was Mush’ idea, and it’s very fun.”

Davey nods slowly to himself. A small thing to show that he cares? He might be able to do that. 

This time he walks into Hobbytown. He keeps his head high, remaining calm, even when he sees all the small children and tweens walking around, looking for crafts. Parents are also rushing about, making sure that the things their kids pick out do not stain. 

Davey finds an employed - a young woman about his age - and explains the situation. It turns out that she is a big fan of romance, and squeals when she hears Davey’s plan. She quickly shows him different types of craft, and Davey leaves the story with a small clay molding set under his arm and a surprisingly light heart. 

That night, he sits down at his desk and starts trying to mold the clay into a shape. At first it just looks like a lump, but after a while it starts to form into something vaguely humanoid. Ten minutes more passes, and he thinks he might be able to see a head somewhere. 

He is sweating, and his eyes are burning slightly from concentrating for so long, but he feels almost proud when he takes in the finished figurine. The two people, holding hands, are not pretty by any means. They honestly look kind of ugly. And the taller one’s arm is set in a direction that would probably mean it’s broken if it was a real person. But he made it with his own hands, and there is something very satisfying about that. 

There is a knock on the door to the dorm, and then Jack’s voice. “You here, babe?”

Davey jerks, and in his surprise he manages to hit the figurine a bit too hard. It wobbles. It falls, almost in slow motion, over the desk. It hits the floor with a very wet splash. 

Davey stares at it without being able to comprehend what just happened. There is another knock. 

“Dave?”

He sighs, throws his towel over the mess on the floor, and goes to open the door. Jack smiles at him, not a care in the world. “Hi!” 

“Hey,” Davey says and gives him a quick kiss. Jack is carrying a small plastic bag. “I got us some snacks for the movie.” Davey can see the glimpse of black and red in the bag.

“You got me liquorice?” he asks with a smile. “You hate liquorice.”

Jack shrugs, like it’s not a big deal. “You love it, though.” He holds out his hand for Davey. “You ready to go?”

Davey nods and grabs his jacket. He glances at the towel on the floor one last time before leaving the room with a slight feeling of hopelessness in his chest. 

He decides to ask the most romantic person he knows for help. He really must be desperate. It is his final chance to do something nice for his boyfriend.

“Oh, I know exactly what you should do,” Romeo says and claps his hands together. He spins around on his chair, thinking for a moment. Davey feels slightly intimidated as he sits on Romeo’s bed, waiting for his verdict. 

After a moment, Romeo stops and points at Davey. “A big, grand, gesture is the only way to go,” he says, like this is obvious. Davey furrows his eyebrows. 

“Are you sure? Mush said-”

Romeo waves him aside. “Come on, Davey. I love Mush, but he doesn’t understand shit about wooing.”

“He has Blink, though.” 

Romeo rolls his eyes. “Yeah, well, he got lucky. It’s sad, both of them think it’s only the thought that counts, and takes that as an excuse to not put any real flare into it.”

Davey is feeling confused. “Are you saying the though doesn’t count?”

Romeo shakes his head and points towards Davey again. “Exactly. What you need to do, my friend, is make it big. Bigger than you can imagine.” He throws his hands out in the air, as if waiting for a hug. He closes his eyes. “Think Paris, think a romantic walk along the seine… Think a picnic under the _Tour Eiffel_.”

Davey raises his eyebrows. For such a hopeless romantic, Romeo has a terrible french pronunciation. “I don’t know if you’re aware of this, Ro, but I’m a broke college student. I don’t have the money to fly us to Europe for the weekend.”

Romeo opens his eyes, smile falling. “Oh. Right.”

When David leaves the dorm he is starting to feel more anxious and frustrated by the second. 

“I don’t know what to do, Sarah,” he groans over the phone later that night. “It’s only, what, three days left?” He falls down onto his bed, pulling his covers over his face. Sarah laughs at the other line. “Shut up! It’s not funny!”

“It’s a little bit funny,” Sarah admits, but stops laughing. “The problem is that you are overthinking it.”

Davey sighs. “Of course I am, because Jack is basically the god of romance and he’ll get me something lovely and thoughtful and then he’ll break up with me because he will see that I can’t live up to that standard.”

Sarah snorts. “That’s a bit dramatic, Dave.”

“Shut up,” Davey grumbles again. Sarah sighs, exasperated.

“No, what I’m saying is that you already have everything you need. You don’t need to be able to sculpture a figurine of the two of you, or the money to fly you to France.”

“What do I need, then?” Davey asks, irritated by how vague she’s being. 

“Just the ability to use a very good skill you have,” she says. “And maybe a computer,” she adds thoughtfully.

Davey is quiet for a moment, silently thinking over her words. Sarah lets out a laughs. “You’re an english major, Dave! Write him something, something from the heart. The reason you always get flustered when Jack gives you gifts is because you get reminded of how much he wants to make you happy, right? He reminds you of how much he loves you, with his gestures.”

Davey sits up suddenly, everything clicking in his brain and a plan starting to take form. “Oh, my God. I gotta go, Sarah, thank you.”

“Anytime,” Sarah says with a laugh as he hangs up.

When Valentine’s day arrives, it’s just as disgustingly sweet as it usually it, and full of adorable couples all day. The only real difference is that this year, Davey has someone to be disgustingly sweet with, as well. 

Speaking of which. 

He paces anxiously outside of Jack door, waiting for him to open. Jack had suggested they’d take a late night walk together, just like they had on their first date, since he didn’t get off work until nine at night. Davey had accepted without any complaint. It actually worked out pretty well for his own plan. 

It takes a minute for Jack to get to the door, but when he does it’s absolutely worth it. He is wearing a light blue shirt tucked into a pair of actual dress pants, and a light gray blazer in his hands. His hair is still slightly wet from the shower, it falls on front of his eyes. Davey can’t stop himself, he quickly leans down and presses a soft kiss on Jack’s lips. He can feel Jack smile against him, and his hands traveling up to rest at Davey’s neck. When they break apart a minute later, Jack’s grin is wide. “We saw each other yesterday. Missed me that much?”

Davey lets out a laugh and kisses him again. “You bet I did,” he mumbles. “Happy Valentine’s.”

Jack smile turns soft and he puts a hand on Davey’s cheek. “You, too.” He releases himself from Davey’s grip and turns back into the apartment. “I got something for you,” he says and presents - not one flower - but a small bouquet of red and pink roses. Davey can feel his face warm up, and he accepts the flowers with a slight shake of his head. 

“Thank you,” he murmurs, and puts down the bouquet inside the front door. “Can I leave them here, and take them when we get back?” 

Jack nods and grabs his keys. “Of course. I’m ready if you are.”

Davey nods as well and grabs Jack’s hand. They starts to walk down the stairs of the building. “So, you have a route or are we just… going with the flow?”

Jack squeezes his hand. “Going with the flow, definitely,” he decides. 

They wander down the street, the dark engulfing them in the familiar feeling you only get when you walk in a city you know like the back of your pocket. They talk, they laugh. Jack’s hand in his, and Davey can’t help but think of how satisfied he feels. He doesn’t need anything else tonight. This is the only thing he wants. 

They stop for ice cream, and sit down on a bench to eat it. In reality, it’s way too cold for that type of food, but they ignore it. It’s cold and rugged, and very urban, sitting in the middle of the city on a bench outside a subway station. But neither of them mind. It is their city, after all, and no matter how many documentaires Jack watches about Santa fe it’s going to stay that way. 

“So,” Jack says and wipes his hands with a napkin. Davey is slowly enjoying the last few scoops of his own ice cream. “It’s Valentine’s day.”

Davey nods. “It is,” he agrees. “Any particular reason why you’re bringing it up?”

Jack’s face turns a little bit red, and he shrugs. “I, uh… Well…” he puts a hand - the one not holding Davey’s - into his pocket and digs around until he finds what he is looking for. “I was just thinking, and I thought of… Well, uh…”

Davey takes the small box from Jack’s outstretched hand and holds it up in front of him. It’s tiny and bright red. He gives Jack a look. “You’re not proposing, are you?” he asks teasingly. 

Jack starts to sputter indignantly, and Davey laughs. “Okay, just checking,” he says and opens the box. 

Inside is a key. 

Davey looks up. Jack has stopped smiling. Davey glances back at the key again, not able to put two and two together.

“It’s to my apartment. I want you to have it,” Jack mumbles, looking at a spot below Davey’s right earlobe. “You can use it whenever you want. I... “ he meets Davey’s eyes. “I want you to come and go as you wish.”

He swallows. There is a twist in Davey’s heart and he surges forward and presses a clumsy kiss on Jack’s lips. “Thank you. Thank you, Jackie.” He smiles, wide and happy, and Jack smiles back. A hint of relief is evident on his face, but Davey doesn’t mention it. 

“I actually have something for you, as well,” he says and straightens out a bit. Jack raises his eyebrows. 

“Oh, really?” 

Davey rolls his eyes and rises from the bench. he slides they key onto his own keychain, and puts it back into his pocket. “Yes, but we will need to move. Come.” He grabs Jack’s hand and then they are walking again, side by side. Jack playfully shoves Davey. 

“What is it?” he asks, glancing at Davey. “And where are we going?”

Davey shrugs, but he can’t help the smile forming on his face. “You’ll see. But it’s just around the corner.”

He’s right. They pass another street, then turn right and find themselves in front of a seven eleven. 

Jack glances up at the sign. “We getting a slushie?” he asks. 

“No,” Davey replies and nudges Jack to go inside. “We’re getting the newspaper.”

“The newspaper?” Jack asks, confusion written over his face. Davey tugs him along through the store until they are standing in front of the newspaper stand. “Uh, Dave -”

Dave rifles through the different newspapers until he finds what he’s looking for. “Here,” he says and hands it to Jack along with a couple of crumpled up bills. Jack stares at his boyfriend for a moment, but accepts the items hen he sees Davey’s barely contained excitement. 

He turns around and starts walking to the register. That’s when he sees it. Davey holds his breath. Jack is absentmindedly glancing the paper when he notices a small piece in the corner of the front page. There is a name that catches his interest. His own name. He stops in his tracks. 

_Jack Kelly, look over here!_

_Hello._

_I didn’t know what to give you for Valentine’s day, because you always seem to buy the best gifts and come up with the most romantic gestures. So I decided to use the contacts I do have among the press, (Hi, Katherine!) to one-up you. Ha._

_Jokes aside, this is a public declaration of love._

_So, Jackie._

_I met you over two years ago, and since the moment you arrived you have gone through my life like a whirlwind, making everything turn upside down. I’m going to be honest with you: I was scared as hell. At first, I didn’t understand how or why I always got so affected by you, I didn’t understand why my heart could not calm down every time you touched me. Or course, it became quite clear why the first time we kissed._

_I have realized I am not very good at poetry, so I won’t try to rhyme. But I do want you to know that I can talk about you for hours in a way that makes our friends wish I kept a diary instead. I think about your smile everytime I close my eyes. Your life, your dreams, are mine to share, to keep, to care for._

_I love you, with all of my heart. Now, and onwards._

_Yours,  
Davey_

Jack’s hands are shaking when he turns to look at Davey. His boyfriend is watching him quietly, waiting for any sort of reaction. Without any warning, Jack rushes towards him and flings himself at him. Luckily, the seven eleven is almost deserted, because they are showing a pretty disgusting case of public affection in aisle three. It takes minutes until they manage to break apart long enough to get a real look at each other. 

Davey’s cheeks are flushed, and they are both panting slightly. Jack’s face break into a smile. “Who knew you were such a hopeless romantic, Davey?” he asks and places another kiss at the corner of Davey’s mouth. Davey’s mouth quirks upwards. 

“I learned from the best,” he says and drags his fingers through Jack’s hair. Jack sigh contently and grins. He leans in closer, lips ghosting over Davey’s mouth. Then he pulls away a little bit. 

“I love you,” he says seriously. Davey’s heart does a double flip as he looks at his boyfriend’s sincere face. 

“I love you, too.”

Jack strokes a finger over Davey’s cheek. Standing in a seven eleven at night shouldn’t feel romantic, but somehow it works. “Happy Valentine’s day, Jackie.”

Jack lets out a small laugh, glancing down at the paper in his hand. “You totally win Valentine’s day, Dave.”

Davey is pretty certain he did, as well. Especially because he can’t help feeling like a winner when Jack pulls him in for yet another kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed!!
> 
> Please leave kudos or comments if you liked it<3
> 
> Come say hi on tumblr if you want to scream about newsboys with me! @Pizzas-will-rule-the-world


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